


Ghouls just want to have fun

by chronosaurus (kimnamjin)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 00 line featuring jeongin antics, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe- Ghosts, Alternate Universe- Halloween, College kids!skz, Felix the Friendly Ghost Is what we need, Fluff and Crack, For the latter you will have to read the fic to find out why ;), Got a spoopy halloween special for u guys!, Gratuitous use of ghost puns and 80s slang, Humor, M/M, Memes- character, Perhaps bc jisung has negative brain cells here, Seungmin has a love/hate relationship w jisung, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Which is saying something, another ref to the fic hehe, but i think we could all use some good old fashioned crack, ghost!felix, happy hallo-meme, happy halloween!!!, hopefully this can be one of those excuses for some1 who needs it, im kidding but also I’m not, life isn’t very easy for kpop fans rn and we need an excuse to smile, not what we deserve, ouijia boards, this might be my crackiest fic to date, u Will lose brain cells while reading this i assure u
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 20:51:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21259469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimnamjin/pseuds/chronosaurus
Summary: “What is your name, spirit?” Asked Jisung, audibly keeping his voice as steady and even as humanly possible. He softened his features, as if trying not to spook the shy ghost away.The planchette began to shift again beneath their fingers; Jeongin whimpered, but elected to say nothing.“J-O-E”read Hyunjin, his brows knitting together in confusion as the name left his lips.“Joe what?” Prodded Hyunjin, gently requesting more of the spirit’s information. What’s next, asking for itscredit cardnumber? Honestly, that wouldn’t be terribly off-brand for Hyunjin.The planchette began to move gently under their collective finger pads.“J-O-E M-A-M-A”read Jisung, his tone rising to a confused squeak as he spoke. Like a tea kettle steadily boiling over.“Oh my god,” Jisung murmured under his breath, clearly shaken. “This ghost knows memes.”





	Ghouls just want to have fun

“ _ Ugh,  _ this is  _ such  _ a bad idea!” Whines Jeongin, stamping his foot on the ground like a child put into a particularly savage time out. “Why are we doing this again?!” 

“ _ Because,”  _ drawled Jisung, “It's Halloween, and we're gonna get fuckin’ spooky if it  _ kills us!”  _ he ended his quasi-rant with a triumphant nod of his head, as if he's some war-weary hero returning home from a battle. 

The other boys just rolled their eyes at his dramatics. 

“Well, given the amount of horror movies I've seen, it very well  _ might  _ kill us.” Said Hyunjin, yet his voice is not completely joking. There's an undertone of grave seriousness that the other boys tried to ignore, but it still wormed its way beneath their skin.

“We'll be  _ fine,  _ ‘Jin. Those are all just dumb movies anyways! It's  _ fake.”  _ Jisung tried to placate his nervous buddies, but they don’t seem to be taking the bait. 

But there is one  _ specific  _ buddy who, honestly, would rather be anywhere else than here right now. And they're in  _ his  _ goddamn apartment. How did Seungmin get roped into this, again? 

Oh right. He's friends with Han Jisung. Why that is, he'll never know.

“Get  _ real,  _ guys. Everyone knows ouija boards are just dumb  _ toys.  _ It's a gimmick! Congratulations, you're a sheep to Big Occult Toy.” He groused, his arms in a permanent state of crossing tightly over his chest; a clear indication of how much he'd rather be, well,  _ anywhere  _ else on Halloween night. There's no hoard of candy in sight and they're not even  _ in costume  _ for goodness sake! Unless  _ “broke, tired college student”  _ counts as a costume, in which case all four boys are  _ frighteningly  _ realistic. 

“ _ Is  _ there even a ‘Big Occult Toy’, though?” Asked Jeongin with wide eyes and an oh-so innocent tilt of his head. Half the lights in the living room are off, so his mop of peachy pink hair is bathed in an eerie halo of diffused brilliance. 

“Can we just get this  _ over  _ with already?” Seungmin continued to gripe, gesturing in distaste at the plastic ouija board laid neat and pretty in the center of his circular dining room table. The flimsy excuse for a paranormal conduit is courtesy of Jisung, who ordered the slab of printed plastic from  _ Amazon,  _ of all places. 

He was met with cheers of excitement from Jisung, a groan of mild anticipation from Jeongin, and a grumble of acceptance from Hyunjin. 

Once the table was set with glasses of freshly brewed hot chocolate, billowing with tendrils of steam and more  _ chocolate  _ than  _ hot,  _ the boys took their places around the table. Like some poor, underwhelming version of the Knights of the Round Table, they got comfy in their seats and eyed the ouija board with collective suspicion. 

“For the record before we start, I always thought your apartment is haunted, Seungmin.” Jisung mused over the lip of his tall mug of cocoa, before taking a dainty sip of the sweet concoction of steamed milk and shaved dark chocolate. 

If Seungmin was supposed to be phased by Jisung's little admission, he wasn't. At all.

“And why is  _ that,  _ Jisung?”  _ Buckle up Seungmin,  _ he thought to himself,  _ the idiocy express is about to leave the station. _

Jisung, however, just shrugged. “I don't know. Just always had that vibe, I guess.” 

Seungmin narrowed his eyes at Jisung, shooting invisible daggers at his orange-haired buddy from across the table.  _ Vibes _ ? Really, Jisung? 

Seungmin's apartment is  _ not haunted.  _ It's impossible! One, because ghosts aren't  _ real.  _ And two, his building is a relatively new addition to the block! It was completed in the early 80s— _ 19 _ 80s, not 1880s! So on the off chance that ghosts  _ are  _ real,  _ why  _ would there be one prowling about Seungmin's modern abode?! 

Sure, sometimes Seungmin's hair randomly stands up at attention; the unmistakable feeling of being watched. And yeah, sometimes his apartment has oddly specific cold spots that seem to shift every so often; faulty insulation? A very well hidden drafty crack in the plaster walls?  _ And  _ there was that one time Seungmin  _ swore  _ he fell asleep with his sociology textbook on his bedside table, only to find it already tucked back into his backpack the next morning.

But those weird instances  _ must  _ be the result of Seungmin's dumb mind playing dumb tricks on him. Right? 

After a few minutes of the boys idly slurping their piping hot mugs of cocoa— _ read: stalling— _ the clock struck midnight; the Witching Hour is upon them. 

In the words of Jisung, it's time to  _ get spooky, bitches.  _ Whether they like it or not. 

Hyunjin surprisingly took the reins, discarding his empty mug to the edge of the table and clearing his throat with a rumbling cough. “Well,” he said with a trembling breath of finality, “I'll start?” 

It sounds more like a question than a statement; the boys instantly agreed, not daring to pose any arguments. Carefully,  _ cautiously,  _ four sets of digits, in varying states of quivering unease, came to rest upon the thin perimeter of the planchette. 

“Are there any spirits with us?” Hyunjin began, after shoveling a thick gulp down his throat. The handsome boy is  _ obviously  _ spooked already, and he  _ just  _ asked the first question. They’re in for a  _ long night.  _

Stillness,  _ eerie  _ stillness. Pin drop silence greeted them, and it verged on suffocating. Until—

“Oh my god, oh my  _ god!”  _ Shrieked Jeongin, his features contorting in a mixture of shock and fear. “It’s fucking  _ moving!”  _ And moving it is; the little wood planchette suddenly started to gently meander across the board, taking their fingertips on a languid journey across the plastic. 

It stopped over  _ ‘Yes’.  _ A collective hush fell over the group, teetering on the cusp of deafening. 

“Did any of you do that? Be honest!” Snapped Seungmin, his thin lips pursed into a firm line of skepticism. His eyes are hard and narrowed as he gave each of his scared friends a pointed glare. He was met with three heads shaking  _ no  _ in response. Something about the somber set to their jaws made Seungmin’s stomach pinch; they’re telling the truth.

A chill swept through the modest living room, eliciting goosebumps to chew on skin and shivers to nip at sweater-clad arms. Seungmin doesn't want to mention that last he checked, the  _ heat  _ was on in his apartment. 

Jeongin shivered, snuggling in on himself to conserve whatever body heat is stored in his thin sweater. 

“Something’s here.” Jisung mumbled, the matter-a-fact tone almost as chilling as the sudden cold spell bathing their bunched shoulders. No one responded; choosing instead to warily give the board another once over. 

“Ask something else, Hyunjin.” Jeongin poked the older with a finger, motioning at the board with his chin. “Yeah, do it. I’m  _ sure  _ there’s some perfectly reasonable explanation for all... _ this.”  _ Seungmin observed with forced-causality, gesturing vaguely with one hand. His facade of carefully constructed cynicism is beginning to gradually chip away to dust; not like he'd ever  _ admit  _ that, of course. 

“Ok,” Hyunjin said with a breathy huff, before steadying his shoulders and schooling his expression. “Who’s with us right now? Please give us a sign.” 

“I think we’ve gotten  _ enough  _ signs already.” Jisung muttered under his breath. Seungmin fought the overwhelming urge to scream at him that  _ this was all his idea. _

With an audible gulp from Hyunjin, the planchette languidly slipped across the board once again. Jisung took his bottom lip in his teeth and worried the flesh, Jeongin’s chest began to heave increasingly labored pants. Seungmin showed no weakness; valiantly keeping his wall of doubt as erect and intact as possible. 

“ _ T-H-I-S D-I-C-K”  _ The board spelled out, and their previously horrified silence became something more...stupefied. Or horrified for a  _ different  _ reason, perhaps. 

“ _ What?”  _ Jeongin scrunched his nose in distaste at the crude message, his brows furrowed and pink lips pulled into a frown. “Jisung, did you do that?” 

Jisung’s mouth flew open in shock at the accusation, throwing a scandalized hand to his chest as he scoffed. “ _ Hell  _ no! Just because the board has a good sense of humor doesn’t mean  _ I’m  _ responsible—though I  _ am  _ flattered—”

“Good sense of hum—that’s not what he meant, idiot!” Exclaimed Seungmin, slapping a hand to his forehead and raking down the flesh. Poor Seungmin; he can already feel his well-preserved brain cells beginning to go extinct. Jisung has that effect on people. 

“ _ I’ll  _ try this time, losers.” Jeongin mused with a newfound haughty smirk, sending his friends a devilish wink in turn. Luckily, all his previous fear seems to have left the building. For now. “Ok spirit, level with me here. Who is with us right now?” 

As if on cue, the planchette began to glide across the board as if it’s skating on a rink of polished ice. “ _ D-E-E-Z N-U-T-S”  _ the wooden item spelled out, not missing a single beat. 

The boys stared, eyes wide and unblinking and bordering on vacant. “Holy shit,” Jisung whispered, fighting to keep his expression stoic and to force away the smile trying to upturn his lips. 

“This ghost knows  _ memes.”  _ If the other boys didn’t know any better, they’d say his voice was tinged with  _ awe.  _ Reverence, even. 

“Ok, that’s  _ it!”  _ Barked Seungmin, dramatically throwing his hand off the planchette with theatrical flourish. “This is  _ ridiculous!  _ C’mon Jisung, fess up already!” He pointed an accusatory finger in Jisung’s face, his eyes fiery and filled with rage. 

Jisung shrunk under the digit shoved between his eyes, cowering beneath the human embodiment of an active volcano that is Kim Seungmin. “I-I’m  _ not  _ doing this, I swear!” His voice is borderline  _ pleading,  _ and Seungmin eventually acquiesced. Begrudgingly. But if  _ Jisung  _ isn’t doing this—supposedly—who  _ is?  _

The silence is back, nestling on their shoulders like a lead blanket. The only sound in the otherwise dead silence is the ticking from Seungmin’s wall clock in the kitchen. 

“Should we continue?” Inquired Jeongin, the poor boy looking nothing short of  _ terrified  _ in the artfully dim light of the living room. His eyes are glittering with a wash of nerves, his knobby knees shaking beneath the table. Four pairs of eyes brimming with four different levels of fear—Hyunjin’s intermediate, Jisung’s mild, Jeongin’s high and Seungmin’s purposefully nonexistent—met and silent communication ensued. A scrunch of Hyunjin’s sculpted brows here, a twitch of the tip of Jisung’s nose there; they quickly came to an agreement. 

They nodded, not directed at one boy in particular. “Put your hand back on the planchette, ‘Min.” Jeongin’s wavering voice is hardly chastising, but Seungmin listened with little push back. With a frown tugging at his lips, he placed the pads of his fingers back on the only empty side of the planchette.

“I’ll ask this time around.” Announced Jisung, sounding oddly... _ confident,  _ given the fact they very well might be communicating with a literal  _ ghost.  _ A ghost with a sense of humor— _ somehow— _ even worse than Jisung’s. Oh god—what if...it’s a  _ demon?!  _ Only something from  _ Hell  _ could make jokes like  _ that.  _

“What is your name, spirit?” Asked Jisung, audibly keeping his voice as steady and even as humanly possible. He softened his features, as if trying not to spook the shy ghost away. 

The planchette began to shift again beneath their fingers; Jeongin whimpered, but elected to say nothing. 

“ _ J-O-E”  _ read Hyunjin, his brows knitting together in confusion as the name left his lips. It hung heavy in the air, like an invisible iron weight. 

“So its name is Joe?” Questioned Jisung, with a cock of his head—sending his neon orange locks tumbling off his forehead. 

“No, his name is Jerry. Dumbass.” Seungmin grumbled under his breath, with a roll of his eyes so  _ powerful  _ it would be no surprise if they skidded right out of the sockets. Jisung just sent his friend a not-so-threatening growl, as he’s about as intimidating as a pet store hamster. Which—admittedly— _ can _ be pretty terrifying. Jisung is still firmly planted on the  _ docile  _ side of that sliding scale. 

“Joe what?” Prodded Hyunjin, gently requesting more of the spirit’s information. What’s next, asking for its _credit_ _card _number? Honestly, that wouldn’t be terribly off-brand for Hyunjin. 

The planchette began to move gently under their collective finger pads.  _ “J-O-E M-A-M-A”  _ read Jisung, his tone rising to a confused squeak as he spoke. Like a tea kettle steadily boiling over. 

“Oh my god,” Jisung murmured under his breath, clearly shaken. “This ghost knows memes.”

Jeongin shook his head, his shiny pink locks bouncing with a flurry of fluffy pastel strands. “This is  _ crazy,  _ Jisung. It doesn't make sense!” 

Jisung spluttered, “W-wha—I’m not doing this! This ghost is a fucking  _ meme lord,  _ guys! Do you  _ realize  _ the power of what I’m saying here?!” 

Apparently, his friends do  _ not.  _ Because he was only met with a trio of exasperated eye rolls. 

“Jisung, please just  _ listen  _ to yourself?  _ How  _ would a  _ ghost  _ know about memes?!” It's Seungmin venting now, his lips curled into a hardly restrained snarl of annoyance.

“Yeah, aren't all ghosts from like,” Started Jeongin, “the Victorian era, or some shit? How would a  _ Victorian  _ ghost know about  _ memes?”  _ His questions are startlingly serious, and bursting with childlike innocence. Jeongin needs answers; and soon, preferably. 

Jisung now elected to roll his eyes at his friends; how the tables have turned. “Not  _ all  _ ghosts are old as fuck, dummies.” He spoke slowly, gently, as if he's talking to a group of children.  _ You poor, innocent fools— _ being the thinly veiled message beneath his comforting tone. 

“He's right, you know.” 

The entire table devolved into a chorus of terrified screams, shrieks, and howls of fear. Because  _ that  _ voice, that voice that is as deep as the fucking  _ sea,  _ didn't come from  _ any  _ of them at the table. There is  _ no  _ question about that. 

“W-what the fuck?!” Cried Hyunjin, his eyes darting around the room, until they landed on  _ something  _ idly standing behind the table, father back in the living room. All the color drained from Hyunjin’s face, like water down a siphon. His eyes flew open, glittering and agape and  _ horrified.  _

“Oh my god.” Hyunjin mumbled, but it was no more than a breathy, barely discernible whisper. He sounds like he's about to pass  _ out.  _

“Hyunjin, wha—Oh.  _ Oh.”  _ Jisung was about to ask him what on  _ earth  _ he saw that affected him so greatly, but his words were abruptly cut to the proverbial quick. Jisung’s gaze met... _ it?  _ Him?  _ Whatever  _ that  _ thing  _ is now in the living room with them. 

Seungmin turned to look, and then so did Jeongin. Hyunjin is still staring, dead-eyed and nothing short of resigned to their fate; whatever that may be. 

Standing in the living room, in the median between the dining table and the coffee table before the sofa, is a  _ boy.  _ A boy that is slightly  _ see through,  _ with an ethereal silver glow surrounding his body. His hair is a mop of tousled blonde locks, his figure lanky and undoubtedly young. Oh  _ hell  _ no, this is  _ not  _ happening! 

“Sup.” The boy mused, his plump—and admittedly very pretty—lips quirking into a smile. God, his voice is  _ so  _ deep; like a  _ cavern  _ learned to  _ speak.  _ Seungmin might have spoken too soon. Maybe this kid is a demon straight from the bowels of hell. A very cute one, with a button nose and ruffled hair and an outfit that is oddly...colorful? For a possible demon, at least. He's not wearing some Edwardian waistcoat or black leather getup, that's for sure. 

“W-who the  _ fuck  _ are you?! Get out of my house!” Shrieked Seungmin, temporarily uncaring that he  _ does  _ live in an apartment and he's screaming at the top of his lungs. But it's warranted! There's a translucent fucking stranger glowing in his living room! How is he gonna explain  _ that  _ to his landlord?! 

The kid chucked, a hearty belly laugh that boomed through the apartment like thunder claps. And then, before their incredulous eyes, he  _ floated _ —yes,  _ floated— _ over to close the meager distance between them. His translucent, scuffed vans hang limp above the hardwood as he glided closer. His calves easily passed straight through the leg of Seungmin’s coffee table, his airborne feet sailing above the floorboards with inhuman elegance. Inhuman,  _ obviously. _ What human is partly see through and hovers over the fucking floor?! 

“No can do, my man.” The boy drawled, “I’m the ghost that haunts your place.” The reveal of identity was punctuated with a modest shrug, his plump lips pulling into a good natured smile. 

“Nice to finally meet you, Seungmin. You got a nice place here, save for being so messy with your textbooks.” The eerie boy mused, sending Seungmin a playful wink that—in any other circumstances—would be nothing short of adorable. Yet Seungmin finds himself feigning the desire to pinch himself awake from what must be a  _ very  _ realistic hallucination. 

The glowing kid stared at the boys, the boys stared back at him. No one moved—no one  _ breathed. _ Until they did. 

“ _ Aha!”  _ exclaimed Jisung, shooting out of his chair while puffing out his chest, “I  _ knew  _ this place is haunted! Checkmate, Seungmin!” He shoved a finger in Seungmin's face, to  _ really  _ drive the point home. Seungmin fought the innate urge to bite it off. 

His appartment is fucking haunted. By a dumbass  _ teen.  _ He's not sure if he's more perturbed about  _ that,  _ or the fact that Jisung was  _ right.  _

The ghost boy sent Jisung a knowing smirk, and waggled his brows. Seungmin officially wants to wake up from this living nightmare already.

“Are you who we were talking to?” Jeongin took it upon himself to restart his coherence, gazing at the incorporeal boy with  _ wonder.  _ Astonishment, and amazement. His fear is gone—the ghostly boy is pretty much the  _ opposite  _ of spooky. Save for, you know, floating through Seungmin's fucking  _ furniture.  _

The boy nodded, eagerly. “Yup! Name’s actually Felix, not Joe Mama.” 

“We figured.” Groused Seungmin, letting a long suffering sigh escape his lips. He scrubbed another hand down his face,  _ hoping  _ that when he reopens his eyes Felix the Friendly Ghost will be gone; no more than a terribly realistic fever dream. 

But alas, when Seungmin cracked his tired eyes open, who does he see? None other than Felix, bobbing in the air and seemingly entrenched in a lively conversation with Jisung. Probably about memes, or some shit. Typical.

_ “You're the coolest ghost ever, Felix!”  _ Jisung had whooped.

_ “You're not too bad yourself, Jisung.”  _ Felix replied coolly, not missing a single beat. 

Seungmin just wants to go to sleep. But he can't. Because there's a fucking _ghost_ _boy _jaunting—more like _haunting—_about his home. Lovely. 

“Why are you only just showing yourself  _ now,  _ Felix?” Seungmin’s  _ gotta  _ know. His curiosity is nipping at his brain, and it must be sated. 

Felix contemplated the question for a few seconds of silence. “IDK. Something to do with the ouija board and the magic power of Halloween? Or something cliche like that?” 

Seungmin blinked, his eyes rapidly losing any and all signs of life. “Did you just say ‘ _ IDK’  _ out loud?” That's really all he managed to pick up from Felix's explanation. 

Felix shrugged. “Yup. I like memes.” Well, that answers  _ that _ conundrum. What a strange ghost. Seungmin is just glad he's not possessing anyone and making knives fly across the room. For now, at least. 

“That's not a mem—forget it. Can't you like…I don't know,” Seungmin began, devolving into a human stream of consciousness, “Go haunt someone else?  _ Please?”  _ Seungmin can  _ not  _ deal with knowing Felix is always... _ watching.  _ Lurking in the shadows and invisible from view, but equally all knowing. Sure, the ghostly kid doesn't seem to have a malicious bone in his body—or  _ any  _ bone in his body, for that matter—but who  _ wants  _ a ghost in their house?! 

Oh right—

“Oh! Oh!” Cheered Jisung, hopping up and down and causing Seungmin's floor to go  _ thump thump thump _ with the pounding footfalls _ .  _ He's  _ definitely  _ getting a noise complaint tonight. “I'll take him! Felix, do you wanna come haunt my house?!” 

Jisung's excitement is so palpable, it  _ almost  _ made Seungmin's stoic mask crack at the edges. 

Felix pondered the proposition with a delicate finger tapping at his chin. “Can we look at memes together?” 

Jisung looks like Felix asked him if the sky is blue. “Uh, _duh?! _You better _boo-_lieve it!” 

There was a collective groan at the mind-melting pun—even from Felix himself, until the cheek-splitting grin from earlier stretched his pale lips once again. 

“Cowabunga! You've got yourself a deal, Jisung!” He exclaimed, gracefully jumping for ghostly joy. He sprung up and hovered, hanging no more than four feet in the air, before slowly sinking back down like a leaf bobbing in the breeze.

“ _ Cowabunga?  _ Dude, it's 2019.” Hyunjin moaned through an expression that verged on appalled.

Felix had the absolute  _ nerve  _ to roll his ghostly eyes at him. “Well  _ excuse  _ me for dying in the 80s.” 

“You're living in the past, man.” Jeongin spoke solemnly, with a surprisingly serious set to his jaw as he shook his head.

“He's not  _ living  _ at all, Jeongin.” After  _ that  _ comment from Jisung, Seungmin officially tuned out of the conversation. The actual, legit conversation between his  _ friends  _ and a  _ ghost _ that still uses the term  _ ‘bogus'  _ seriously. 

When Seungmin decided it's time to force himself back to reality, he was met with Felix and Jisung finishing up a friendly chat about some stupid vintage cartoon they share a love for. Hyunjin and Jeongin are watching—eyes wide and vaguely awestruck, lips pulled up into genuine grins. The night is coming to a close, and Felix looks... _ tired.  _ Can ghosts get tired? He looks like he needs a ghostly nap in a spooky bed right about now. 

And apparently, Seungmin is better at reading spirit-body language than he thought; although something about that sounds like an oxymoron. 

“Well, I’ve had a righteous time with you bodacious dudes, but I'm  _ exhausted _ . Wake me up when we're at your place, Jisung. Smell ya later, lads. Oh, and happy howl-o-meme.” With that, Felix cracked his knuckles (does he even  _ have  _ knuckles?!), rolled his shoulders, and steadied his features into a perfectly blank canvas.

Before their eyes, Felix’s body began to...melt? Disintegrate? All Seungmin knows is that the glowing remains of his body seemed to dismantle and flow directly into the ouija board—left stagnant and forgotten on the table. The ghostly boy was gone just as soon as he'd shown up. Seungmin released a sigh of relief he didn’t even know he was holding. 

They're done with the ouija board. For tonight, and quite possibly forever. Yet there is an implacable fog of...happiness in the air. It's almost physical; the bubbly kind of excitement that warms your tummy with fizzing joy. 

Jisung began packing up the occult board; movements extra careful now that he knows Felix is...in there? Somewhere? He shoved the slice of plastic into his cramped bag with as much gentleness as he could muster. 

“Well,” Hyunjin said with a breathy chuckle, “This is certainly a Halloween for the books, aye guys?” Jisung got a new ghostly roommate with a taste for memes as insatiable as his—yeah, this night is  _ pretty damn  _ unforgettable, Seungmin thinks. 

He was met with a multitude of nods, until a sly grin pulled onto Jeongin’s features. “You could even say it was a,” he paused for dramatic effect, and Seungmin can already feel the wince he's about to let loose.

“Roller  _ ghoster.”  _ Yup, it’s even worse than Seungmin thought. He ruffled Jeongin’s pastel hair nonetheless. 

And so ends a Halloween that, all in all, wasn't really that bad. In fact, if Seungmin thinks about it, it might be his favorite Halloween to date. Meme lords from beyond the grave and all. 

**Author's Note:**

> if u managed to get through the entirety of this fic without wanting to murder me, then congratulations! u win a prize! it is: my undying love and affection!


End file.
